Fantasy The Refuge of Wyllt Aurelianus (Still Accepting)

[Tice]

  Sesler'ther's mind split off in two different directions as two conversations took place. His eyes darted between them as, garnering necessary information while formulating a new equation. Many more variables to consider, now. Indirect commands and obligations felt by mortal societies that he must abide to. At the mention of a draft, Sesler immediately looked bout the room for a heat source. It was this that solidified the conviction that this was indeed a household of humans and not other entities, at least at the core. A quick wrap around of his foot closed the door. "Sir. A title of respect yet you lack knowledge of me. A mortal trait I have always found curious." Sesler'ther's other half of the mind was comprehending Danill's requests and explanations, formulating an answer to his own. Sesler did not use body language in social situation as the mortals did. This, perhaps, was far too much of a gleaming clue. All creatures have a gift for identifying their own, so it could not have been much as a shock for Sesler'ther. But yet, it was. Sesler felt the creeping edges of an outbreak, turning his head away from Danill to enter the dining room. The woman in the morning was accounted for, as well as Danill and the presumed voice that had given him the piece of information necessary for the equation to function properly. There was then the boy in the night who had arrived unexpectedly, making himself nearly indistinguishable from the environment. The Trini sat down, looking at the food prepared on the plate before him.


  The silverware was not new to Sesler, though the thin-bladed knife felt odd. The weight was displaced compared to his own, given the different craftsmanship styles. Sesler'ther had yet to craft himself a new set after destroying his own to salvage the materials. Milliseconds passed through his mind and a proper handling of the butter knife was acquired, spinning it deftly through his fingers and looking to the plate, his eyes focusing as the knife split the omelet into thin slivers, perhaps an inch thick. At the end, he placed the knife back in the original position. The man stared at the cut pieces for a moment, then speaking. "I have learned the keeper's name of Danill in my time here. I lack the knowledge of the others. I speak to no single individual as I seek answers from all. The one who had arrived in the dark has been inconspicuous compared to the one who had arrived in the morning. They are not connected. Now, each and every one in the room is part of one scheme. It is necessary that I learn who each of these persons are in an attempt to formulate a proper execution of said scheme. I am known as Sesler'ther." 

 

[ClassicCaptain]

The icy cold in Carson's chest moved up into his neck, changing into what felt like the prick of needle in the base of his skull, as he saw Danill exit the kitchen to answer the door. His focus shifted from the the two strangers to toward the door as the sting grew more intense with the door being opened by the Refuge's caretaker. What stood opposite of Danill stopped all thought within Carson's mind, Danill's voice morphed into a low murmur, leaving only the whisper of a once long forgotten story of the frontier in his head; "...Built like a birch tree, and just as white" Quin said, "eyes black as coal, and a face as emotionless as a statue. They say he walked out of the fire carrying a plow blade in one hand and a charred skull in the other....."  Carson's senses rushed back, feeling like his neck was on fire, and realizing his hand was on the handle of his knife without him putting it there. He drew his hand away from the sheath as IT walked with Danill into the dining room, Carson shifting away from the doorway. He stood outside the dining room processing everything he just saw in the last few moments. Wiping his face with his hand, and muttering under his breath, he grabbed the morning paper from the side table near the front door. He slid his hunting knife from it's leather sheath to within the paper roll and walked into the dining room, taking a seat closest to the door. "Know the land before you buy it..." His father's words echoed in his mind as he brought his coffee, eggs, and toast back to his seat. He unrolled the newspaper carefully, bringing it up to reading position, putting the knife out of view behind it, "...because the one time you buy impulsively is the time you get cheated."


He had just begun drinking his coffee and reading some fluff piece about a royal engagement happening abroad, when IT spoke the first real words that weren't filtered through a muddled state of mind. IT asked for introductions after introducing itself; "Know the land..." Carson decided to finish his coffee, and waited for one of the two remaining strangers to speak to the table, as he further processed the winds of change that decided to send a twister to an already strange life.   


     

 

[DeafLordess]

Joining everyone at the table, Ayleth brought her plate with her. She sat across from the man who had wandered down the stairs. He seemed disturbed or in the very least somewhat leery of the newcomer. As did Grayson, thought Danill did not seem to terrible perturbed. The entire meal, Ayleth was sitting on pins and needles, waiting for someone to speak and break the silence that had taken roost.

 

[xx_Layla_xx]

A middle aged man rang the bell by the entry way once with his left hand until the melodious sound faded softly the way flowers rot into the silent earth during the fall reason, and, when he heard the echo of a familiar voice from inside the house traveling through the foyer, urging him to wait a little longer, he walked a few steps away from the awning, to churn the warm, fresh milk stored within a float swiftly with a long wooden spoon, as though he had known the very method for years. 


The weakly milk delivery man waited for the master of the house to relieve him of the load.  At last, he grew so impatient, that one of his eyes, which was half red and half violet, started to twitch, hinting at a looming rain storm, ready to unleash from his chest if he wasn't allowed to deliver the rest of his warm milk to other residents who made the orders last morning in the nearby area, before the milk was spoiled.

 

[Doc Taylor]

Danill cracked his neck, stood, and went to the front door of his refuge. He had no idea what had just happened, sitting at the table for lord knows how long, but he felt the need to get back to things. The caretaker opened up the door and greeted the milk man warmly. "How are you my friend?" The old man didn't wait for a response, and took his load. "Would you like to come in for some breakfast? You look, tired." Danill set down the milk and gestured into his home. "Please, join us."